


May I Have This Dance?

by littlechinesedoll



Series: The Boy of Steel and the Prince of Gotham [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman Begins (2005), DCU (Movies), Man of Steel (2013), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce in Smallville, F/M, Fluff, High School, M/M, Underage - Freeform, Waynes are alive, so Bruce is a giant ball of sunshine and sugar, teen insecurities, teenage love, teenage romance, the Kents are alive too so Clark is a shy cutie, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 08:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlechinesedoll/pseuds/littlechinesedoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What’s this?” Bruce took the piece of paper from Clark’s hand.</p><p>Bruce,</p><p>Will you go to the spring dance with me?</p><p>ロ yes (please say yes)<br/>ロ no (please don't say no :( )</p><p>Clark</p>
            </blockquote>





	May I Have This Dance?

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't sue me for all the fluff.

It was Thursday. The Spring Dance was two days away. The school had called off classes on Friday to prepare the gym for Saturday night. And he was not prepared at all. Maybe except for his only suit. He’d worn it a few times already. It still fit, so there was no need to get a new one.

And he didn’t have a date. Most of the people going already had dates. And he was still trying to gather courage to ask Bruce. Yeah, he’d already been with them close to a week, and he and his parents were having a good time (he hoped).

Clark was walking down the hallway, past his upperclassmen, and rushed into the bathroom as he reddened, remembering what he had done a few days before in the back of Bruce’s limo. Yeah, they’d been making out, and holding hands and accidentally dozing off under the tree near the barn but…this was Bruce.

After what happened with Bruce and Officer Bennett on his way home a few days ago, and the seniors hadn’t bothered him again. Which was totally relieving because he did not want to keep dealing with their immature shit. He was busy enough waking up at the ass crack of dawn to milk the cows, helping Pa out with the crops, and mucking out the stables at the end of the day. He _still_ had to muck out the stables after his dose of bullying.

He leaned on the cubicle’s door and slid down to the floor. This was hopeless. Bruce wasn’t going to a crappy high school dance with a Kansas farm boy. He went to galas and charity parties with fancy people and girls following him around. He wore those fancy tuxes and dress shoes to hotels and huge ballrooms, not to a high school gym. He took the invitation out of his bag. It was a bit crumpled so he smoothed it out.

 

 

  


 

Smallville High School Spring Dance.  
Smallville High School Gymnasium   
Saturday, the twenty-fifth of April,  
Six in the evening to twelve midnight.  
See you there, Mr Kent!

He stared at it and sighed.

Just as Clark was about to have an inner meltdown, his phone buzzed. He shoved the invitation back in his bag and fished his phone out of his pocket, flipped it open, and opened the message he received.

**From: Bruce**  
 **Message:**  
 **Are your classes done? I wanted to walk you home. I’m outside at the corner across the street.**

Clark pressed reply.

**To: Bruce**  
 **Message:**  
 **Yep! Omw out. Just had to go to the restroom.**

And he hit send. He stood up and grabbed his bag, rushing out of the bathroom as he slung his bag on his shoulder. He could hear Bruce’s heartbeat as he walked down the hall to the school’s exit. It was calm and steady. It was one of Clark’s most favourite sounds.

Bruce read Clark’s message, and soon heard Clark calling his name, and saw him crossing the street. “Hey, you,” said Bruce, smiling at Clark as he came closer. “Bad day?”

“Not really, no,” Clark smiled back at him and shook his head, fixing the other strap of his bag to his free shoulder. “C’mon, we could go for a bite before we go home. There’s a nice diner on the way back,”

Okay so maybe he did have a bad day. But he wasn’t going to tell Bruce that he’s freaking out because he didn’t have a date to the Spring Dance. Because that was just sad. The dance was announced a month before and he _still_ hadn’t asked anyone yet. Well, there was Bruce…that was a bit of a problem, too.

“Sounds like a great idea,” Bruce took Clark’s hand as they started to walk down the street, headed home.

Clark turned red. He stared at their hands. Bruce was holding his hand. They were holding hands. They had only held hands in his room and around the farm, never in public. Well of course Bruce hadn’t held his hand in public yet. They had just gotten together. But Bruce was _holding his hand_.

Bruce suddenly chuckled. Clark looked at him. “Aaww, you’re blushing,” he said, and placed a quick kiss on Clark’s cheek. The blush spread to Clark’s ears. Bruce fought back a huge grin, and pulled Clark into an alley, where they emerged a few moments later with Clark’s glasses skewed and his hair a bit messy.

Bruce just couldn’t resist Clark. He was too cute and adorable for his own good. He was just…Clark. He loved the way Clark pushes up his glasses when they were low on his nose, and the way he scrunched up his nose when he wrote something wrong on his paper, and the way he stuffed his mouth with pancakes and syrup at breakfast. Everything Clark did fascinated him.

“So,” said Bruce as they walked down the street. “Where is fine establishment that we’re dining in?” he asked, pulling Clark to his side.

“Well,” said Clark, fixing his hair and his glasses. “I’d hardly call fine, but it is a nice place. Unless you want to go eat somewhere else,”

Bruce was still smiling, and Clark reddened again when he looked at him. “Is it like those movie sets? With the neon music boxes and waitresses in pink dresses and tiny white aprons? Is it? And cute little booths and—what?”

Clark was the one smiling this time. He had both an amused and a fond look on his face. “Nothing. You just look cute when you’re excited like that,” Clark loved the way Bruce got excited about the things Clark did on an everyday basis. Like the diner.

Bruce blushed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Clark chuckled and nodded.

“Oh, oh!” said Bruce excitedly, stopping in their tracks and jumping in place. “I wanna go there!”

“What? Where?” said Clark, looking around to see if something fancy caught Bruce’s eye.

“There!” Bruce pointed somewhere across the street.

“Where?”

“There! The red and orange seven!” said Bruce, “How is that read? Seven eleven?” Bruce stared at the sign dumbly. “That makes no sense,”

Clark laughed. “Yeah, it’s read seven eleven,” he said as he and Bruce crossed the street. “It used to mean that they’re open from seven in the morning to eleven at night. Now most of them are open twenty four seven,”

“Oh, now that makes sense,” Bruce let Clark lead him into the store.

“Good afternoon, Mr Martin!” Clark greeted the young man behind the counter.

“Good afternoon to you, too, Clark,” said Mr Martin with a smile. “Who’ve you got there?” his smile turned into a bold grin.

Before Clark could answer, Bruce spoke up and approached Mr Martin. “Hi! I’m Bruce,” he offered a hand and Mr Martin took it. “It’s nice to meet you, sir,”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, too, Bruce.” Mr Martin was surprised that Bruce gave a really firm handshake.

When Mr Martin let go, Bruce looked around, looking for something that might catch his eye. “Oooh, Clark, I want that one!” Bruce pulled Clark to the Slurpee machine.

Mr Martin winked at Clark when he saw their hands together. Blood rushed to Clark’s cheeks again as he let Bruce drag him to the Slurpee machine. Bruce let go of Clark’s hand, ready to get himself whatever it was that this contraption dispensed, then said, “How do you use it?”

“Which flavour do you want?” asked Clark, getting the biggest cup so they could share.

“I want…” said Bruce thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes at the three flavours in front of him. “Which one do you like best?” he turned to Clark.

“I like this one,” Clark filled the large cup up with the ‘Strawberry Lemonshade.’ “Let’s share it?” he asked, and Bruce nodded.

Bruce watched Clark fill it up, and Clark went to the counter to pay for it. He chuckled, leaving Bruce to examine the dispenser further, and then go to the candy rack to pick out something he wanted. Clark handed Mr Martin his payment.

“You got a pretty little someone clingin’ on your arm, Clark,” Mr Martin chuckled as the register dings, and he hands Clark his change. “You lucky boy, you,”

Clark didn’t know if the blood in his face even drained anymore. “Y-yeah,” he stuttered, taking the two straws Mr Martin gave to him. “He is pretty, isn’t he?” He looked at Bruce, who looked distressed at choosing which pack of candy to take. He looked very interested in a packet of chocolate, ‘Chocnut.’

“Go on, help him decide before he breaks something,” Mr Martin shooed him away to Bruce. Clark nodded.

“Do you like that?” said Clark as he moved over to him. “It’s really nice,”

Bruce nodded and Clark checked it out, and they decided to eat it on the way home. Clark smiled as the walk, watching Bruce devour the pack of chocolate. Bruce told him stories about all kinds of chocolate he’d had in other countries, but the best ones were the simplest ones, like the mint chocolates from Japan he’d had, or the ones he was eating right now, a nutty, chocolate treat from the Philippines. He ended up finishing all of the chocolate, and drinking more Slurpee than Clark did.

“We’re home!” Clark called as he and Bruce entered the house.

Bruce had thrown the chocolate wrappers and empty Slurpee cup before they entered the farm land. Alfred would probably know what he’d had with Clark, but he didn’t want to look guilty. Better be accused than be proven guilty. Besides. Alfred was a ninja. He knew _everything_.

“Hi, Ma!” Bruce cheerfully bounded into the kitchen where Ma was at the sink washing the potatoes for dinner. He gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. “We’re home!”

“Oh!” Bruce caught Ma by surprise, causing her to drop the peeled potatoes in the basin of water in the sink. “Welcome home,” she chuckled and returned Bruce a kiss to his cheek. “Your Ma and Pa went out on a little walk ‘round the property. They’ll be back soon,” she said, and Bruce nodded. “

“Hi, Ma,” said Clark, grabbing an apple from the fruit basket. “Where’s Pa?”

“Clark,” Ma smiled, “He’s out making some deliveries. How was school?”

“Okay I guess,” Clark bit into the apple and set his bag down on one of the chairs at the table.

“What did I say about your schoolbag, Clark?” Ma wasn’t even looking at him when she said that.

“Yes, Ma,” was all that Clark said. Bruce chuckled and took his hand again and dragged him to his room.

Ma just smiled as she peeled the potatoes. She hadn’t seen Clark so happy before. There was no doubt in her mind, or Bruce’s parents mind, that those boys were good for each other.

‘I like him, Ma,’ Clark had told her. ‘More than a friend. I mean when that bully tried to hit him, I wanted to send him to the next state!’

Ma wasn’t going to stop them from discovering more about each other in all aspects, as long as they were cautious about it. And as long as they weren’t caught doing anything intimate. She understood that they were teenagers and that they were being curious.

Clark set his bag down beside his bed. Bruce told him he’d give Clark a little alone time first to get himself settled down before taking over his room. He plopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling as he finished his apple. Halfway through the fruit, he bit into it to hold it in his mouth as he rummaged through his bag and pulled out a piece of paper from his notebook, and a pencil.

He wrote something down.

Clark stared at it and sighed. He ate the apple with a little super speed and threw it into his trash bin. “Ohmyfod,” he said with his cheeks and mouth full like a hamster. “Fis is howfwes,” he chewed on the apples and swallowed.

He listened, trying to find out what everybody was doing with his eyes closed and his hearing extended. Ma was preparing the table, and Bruce was helping. Mr and Mrs Wayne were holding hands, kissing from time to time as they walked through the farmland.

He was about to put the note on the desk when Bruce knocked on the door. He shoved the note into his coat pocket instead. He could see Bruce through his door. He still had his coat and his boots on. “Clark?”

“Come in,” said Clark, shoving his bag under his desk, then moved a little to make it look like he was taking off his clothes.

“I was wondering if you’d like to walk around the property before dinner,” said Bruce, “Y’know, sit under your favourite tree, play some stuff on your iPad,”

Clark stared at him, halfway through ‘taking off’ his coat. “Bruce, I don’t have an iPad,”

Bruce bit his lip, trying to keep from smiling as he pointed to bed. “Look under,”

“What?” Clark looked at the bed as he fixed his coat back on, then back at Bruce, then knelt down to look at what Bruce was pointing to. He pulled out a box.

“You do now,” Bruce smiled at him, then went over to him, hooked their arms together, and pressed a kiss to Clark’s cheek. “Because I want us to take a lot of pictures,” Bruce said as he pulled Clark gently back so they could sit down on the bed.

“Bruce, I can’t…I can’t take this,” said Clark, looking at Bruce, who only smiled at him.

“Of course you can!” Bruce helped him open the box, then immediately took a picture of them both. “Smile, okay!” he said, then made the photo the device’s wallpaper and lock screen.

Clark wiped the smile off his face and frowned at Bruce.

“Look,” said Bruce, holding Clark’s hand and entwining their fingers together. “This is nothing, okay? And I want you to have it. It’s got internet all the time, look,” Bruce pressed safari, and Google loaded up. “So you can contact me any time, when we go back to Gotham. And if I get a long stretch of free time I’ll fly straight here,”

Clark sighed. Bruce was seriously way too good for him. And instead of arguing with Bruce that he didn’t deserve this, or that he couldn’t take it, he placed a quick kiss on Bruce’s lips. “Thank you. This is very kind of you, Bruce,”

Bruce chuckled. “C’mon, I put all kinds of games in there!” Bruce pulled him off the bed and led him out of the house, to Clark’s favourite tree a few yards away from the house.

“Come back before the sun sets!” said Ma as they disappeared out the door.

The tree had a sweet looking swing made of rope and a plank of wood. Bruce was sad that it wouldn’t hold them both, but sitting under the tree camwhoring on Clark’s new iPad and playing games were probably better.

Clark let Bruce pull him. He looked at the device. He had to look out for his strength now. He’d probably break this if he sneezed. And it’d take him probably a few months to save up enough money to buy one of these. And Ma might even get mad that he spent his money on something so trivial.

“Okay, let’s do this,” said Bruce as they made themselves comfortable under Clark’s tree. “C’mon, get the camera on,”

Bruce tapped on the device few times, and they popped up on the screen. “You use it,” said Clark, still unsure about the thing. He was a few breaths away from crushing the gadget into a million tiny electronic pieces.

“It’s not going to eat you, you know,” Bruce chuckled and took the tablet from Clark’s grasp. “Here,” he pressed the button for the camera, “Smile!”

“Wait, what? Already?”

Bruce had already pressed capture, and caught Clark off guard. Clark frowned at the photo. Bruce laughed. Several more photos were taken, this time with smiles, goofy faces, cheek kisses and eskimo kisses. Bruce let Clark play all the games he had installed, and all the photo editing applications with features such as adding stickers. Bruce put a mustache on Clark, and Clark put ribbons on Bruce’s hair.

“You boys having fun?” Mrs Wayne called from the porch, chuckling as Bruce lost to a Tap Tap battle. Mr Wayne was beside her, watching both young men tap on the gadget screen.

“No, nonono!”said Bruce as he tried to keep up with the notes. “You so cheat!” he told Clark before looking at his parents. “Hi, mom! Hi, dad!” he waved at them

Clark just laughed at Bruce, and waved at the Waynes. “Good afternoon, Mr and Mrs Wayne!”

“Good afternoon to you, too,” they chorused.

“Come back before sunset, okay?” said Mrs Wayne.

“Okay!” both boys chorused. “Let’s go again!” said Bruce, picking another song from the list.

The sun was about to set and the iPad had already run out of power when they were picking a new wallpaper for it.

“I like this one best,” said Bruce, looking at a photo where they had their foreheads pressed together, with their eyes closed, Bruce’s right hand loosely on Clark’s cheek, and with brilliant smiles on their face.

“Yeah, I like it best, too,” agreed Clark.

Bruce set it as a wallpaper, then locked the device, and gave it back to Clark. “C’mon. Ma’s probably done cooking,” he stood up, and offered his hand to help Clark get on his feet.

Clark took it, and dusted himself off. Bruce moved to walk towards the house, but Clark pulled him back. “Wait,” he said.

“Hm?” Bruce went back to his side.

Clark felt like there was something stuck in this throat. “I just…I wanted to ask you something,”

“What is it?”

“I can’t…” _say it out loud_ , was what he meant to say, but he couldn’t. So in a rush of panic, Clark let go of Bruce’s hand, pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, smoothed it out as best as he could, and gave it to Bruce. Clark felt the blood rush to his face, reddening even his ears.

“What’s this?” Bruce took the piece of paper from Clark’s hand.

 

 

Bruce smiled, and a fond laugh escaped his lips.

He knew it. He just knew it. Bruce was laughing because he’d never go to a small time dance like that. Clark lowered his head, almost wishing that he’d disappear right then. He wanted to zoom to the next state and let the humiliation pass there. Or probably spend a few hours on the moon.

“Oh, Clark,” Bruce said, taking Clark’s hand again and squeezing it tight. He moved forward, lifted Clark’s chin up so he could see those beautiful blue eyes, and pressed a kiss to Clark’s lips. “I’d love to go to your dance with you,”

“R-really?” Clark looked like he was about to cry, because he’d never felt so relieved in his entire life (he probably felt more relieved when he was able to get Bruce away from those bullies).

“Of course!” said Bruce excitedly. “I need to call Alfred! We need to get you dressed up! Oh my god, when is this, Clark? This is on the weekend, isn’t it?”

“I really thought you wouldn’t go,” said Clark bashfully. The blush never left his face. “I mean, this is Smallville. And this is some just tacky high school dance on Saturday, and you go to galas and movie premieres and walk on red carpets—”

“And this will be the best party I’ve ever had,” Bruce cut him off, “because this is your high school dance, it doesn’t happen all the time, and because you’re my date. It’s going to be a very nice night, Clark,” he gave Clark’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

Clark felt like crying.

“It doesn’t matter how big the party is, or how fancy the venue, or how famous the guests are,” Bruce continued. “What matters is that you enjoy who you’re with, right?” Bruce smiled at him.

“Yeah, right,” Clark nodded, and pulled Bruce in for a hug. “I love you,” he whispered into Bruce’s hair.

“I love you, too, Clark,” Bruce pulled away slowly, and he half-dragged Clark back into the house. “MOM!” Bruce yelled. “WE NEED TO GET SOMEONE FROM ARMANI HERE NOW! CLARK’S SPRING DANCE IS ON SATURDAY, AND WE DON’T HAVE ANYTHING TO WEAR!!”

“Bruce, I already have a suit!” Clark protested.

“No, you don’t. We’re going to dress you in Armani head to toe. Dress to impress, Clark!”

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff. ;_;


End file.
